


The Voice on the Radio

by put it back (HereThereBeFic)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU, F/F, Gen, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereThereBeFic/pseuds/put%20it%20back
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as anyone in Night Vale can remember, one of the few sure things they could always count on at the end of the day - however difficult, complicated, or unexpectedly long that day may have been - has been the community radio station's nightly news report.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voice on the Radio

For as long as anyone in Night Vale can remember, one of the few sure things they could always count on at the end of the day - however difficult, complicated, or unexpectedly long that day may have been - has been the community radio station's nightly news report.

And for as long as anyone in Night Vale can remember, it has been Sybil's voice - low and soothing and, in the face of very nearly _anything_ , reassuringly composed - that has sent them off to sleep or, at the very least, given them a brief period of respite in the dark evenings.

Sybil is friendly to everyone (with a few exceptions who _unquestionably deserve it_ ), but isn't particularly close to... anyone. This is not all that surprising. Particular closeness is an emotional, mental, physical, spiritual, and occupational hazard. The hand of friendship is not extended lightly in Night Vale.

But many people in town have built up a certain fondness, over the years, for the voice on the radio. Mostly this is shown through acts of violence and destruction against whoever or whatever she has most recently taken a strong enough dislike to for it to have bled over into her broadcasts. (She is not oblivious to the consequences of her negative opinions - she's touched by the gesture, really, and so far it hasn't gotten her into too much trouble.)

Mostly.

Age is a tricky thing in Night Vale. Sybil is not, does not look like, does not identify herself as, and _cannot be_ the town's oldest resident. And yet -

\- for as long as _anyone_ in Night Vale can remember, the voice on the radio has been hers. They have grown up with that voice, and they know its sound perfectly, and they recognize the slightest difference immediately. They also know Sybil's habits. Sybil gossips. Sybil editorializes. Sybil, somehow, through a one-way medium, _chats_.

During the first broadcast after Vanessa Carlsburg broke her heart, she was a consummate professional. Her voice, it must be said, _may_ have _wavered_ , a _bit_ , but it was still much stronger and smoother and more clearly enunciated than the _average_ voice. She made no comment on any of the news items, and she interrupted herself not even _once_ to tell an ostensibly related personal anecdote. Before the show had even ended, letters were arriving at the station from concerned listeners, asking after her health.

(All attempts to keep Vanessa out of the broadcasts fell away after about a month, when, though adding nothing herself, she put some rather _pointed_ emphasis on _certain words_ of a council-issued statement meant to update the public on the new consequences for several lesser crimes, one of which happened to be infidelity.)

-

When the scientists show up, the town collectively raises an eyebrow, shrugs, and goes about its business.

That night, however, in the face of Sybil's unique brand of stoic enthusiasm, many listeners think back, shrug a second time, and admit that yes, the lead scientist's hair _was_ rather... well, now that Sybil has brought it to their attention, rather _perfect_.

And as time goes on, and Sybil's enthusiasm becomes less and less stoic, citizens worry and grin and chuckle and make bets. Their reactions may be varied, but they are _all_ , somehow, becoming _invested_.

Well, of course they are. Sybil is _their **radio host**_ , after all. The voice in their ears at the end of the day, keeping them safely informed and wishing them well. Of course they're invested. Of course they care.

"Listeners - _guess_ who called me _this weekend_?"

("Is it even worth guessing?" someone mutters to someone else.)

"I mean, hey - you know I don't like to talk too much about my personal life here..."

(A different someone else elbows her companion in the side and they both double over, giggling.)

"This is _your_ community news station! Not - Sybil's Personal Life Station. Right?"

("Wouldn't _that_ be boring," says yet another person, to no one in particular.)

"...Okay. Fine. I'll just say it."

("You think it was -"

"SHH!")

A short, quiet breath, and then -

" _Carmeliiitaaaa!_ "

(The town, collectively, pauses.

Sybil is, of course, very _expressive_ with her voice, in the sense that even when it is completely flat, they can sort of _tell_ that she's tapping a foot impatiently, or rolling her eyes, or winking at the microphone.

For as long as anyone in Night Vale can remember, they have been listening to Sybil's voice.

They have heard Sybil with crushes. They have heard Sybil in relationships. Stable relationships. _Happy_ relationships.

They have heard her narrate tales of rescue and romance; they have heard her coo over floating cats; they have heard her describe beautiful and awe-inspiring sights and settings and feats of bravery.

They have never, until this moment, heard her _swoon_.)


End file.
